


No Plan

by Feralhimbo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Light Angst, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, OFC - Freeform, Peter is Spiderman, Pining, Protective Harley Keener, Roommates, Slow Burn, The Avengers - Freeform, and they were ROOMMATES, are minor background characters sometimes, but mostly its just the characters listed, but not too slow, endgame ? dont know her, gay idiots, harley is so gay, ill add more later, iron lad will be coming in later, parkner, peter has bi panic, rating might go up idk, tony stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29170920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feralhimbo/pseuds/Feralhimbo
Summary: Peter Parker is taking a much needed break from heroism to be a freshman at MIT. He's excited to meet new people, learn some new things, bond with his roommate. Unfortunately, his roommate is a dick.Harley Keener is reluctant to move from Rose Hill, Tennessee to Massachusetts, but Tony promised him it would be worth it. He's a bit miffed about having a roommate, but he figures it can't be too bad. Then the guy goes and lies about knowing Tony Stark, and Harley makes it his mission to get his weird, irritatingly attractive roommate to tell him the truth.And They Were Roommates.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 124





	1. Brief Introductions

Peter Parker flops down onto his new bed and stares up at the ceiling with a sense of accomplishment. He’d done it, and he hadn’t even needed Mr. Stark’s help. He’d made it into MIT on his own merit and won enough scholarships to cover him for the whole year. He knows, realistically, that Mister Stark would have paid his tuition if Peter asked him to, but this feels so much better. He can hear Aunt May’s voice two floors down, waiting for the elevator and chatting on the phone. His hearing isn’t so good as to allow him to make out every word, but he can pick out ‘roommate’ and ‘here’.

His roommate. Peter will have a roommate. Some kid who’s coming from Alabama or Tennessee. One of those states, but he can’t quite remember which. They’ve talked a few times on Snapchat, though nothing of importance had come up. Peter is a little nervous to meet him, if he’s being honest. He also hopes Aunt May is gone before then so she can’t report back to Mister Stark on how awkward he is.

  
With a sigh, Peter lifts himself from the unmade bed and goes to unpack his boxes. As he does so, he recalls back to his talk with Pepper and Mr. Stark. Just last week they’d held a press conference and announced that Spiderman would be taking a break from being an active superhero, and will only be called in for world-ending emergencies. Peter is praying there won’t be any distractions from his first year coursework. Pepper had given him a very teary eyed hug and told him to make sure he videocalled her after he was all settled in to show her his new room, while Mister Stark tried to slip a few hundred dollars into his wallet when he wasn’t looking. Pete had rolled his eyes at both of them.

  
He’s just finished making his bed when Aunt May taps on his open door. While she was pretending she wasn’t affected by leaving her nephew (‘you’re my child, Peter.’) at college, Peter had noticed her tearing up throughout orientation, getting his keys, unloading the car, and again when he’d pulled out the last box.  
“C’mon kiddo, how about we go get lunch before I leave you.” They both knew she was stalling, but Peter would take any extra time with her he could get.

“Yeah, yeah. One sec, I want to get some of these boxes out of the way so Harley doesn’t think I’m like. A slob or something.” The snort he gets in response makes him grin, knowing just as much as May that the cleanliness will only last a few hours before his books end up spread across his bed and his clothes are on the floor of his closet.

They take their time exploring the campus. The breeze is comfortable, softly ruffling Peter’s brown curls. He closes his eyes for just a moment and tilts his face towards the sun. It’s warm. His dark blue t-shirt is heating with each moment that he stands still. He can hear laughter, and lots of it. A few tears. If he takes a deep enough breath, he can smell the faint leftovers of a meal eaten on the road from the Jeep across him. He’d been worried, originally, that a new place would make his senses go haywire. Cambridge is quieter than New York, though. No honking horns, shouting vendors, happy tourists. Peter is sure he’ll have more trouble sleeping without all of the noise and traffic.

—

  
Many hours after May has left, Peter can still smell her lotion on his wrist. He gets a whiff every time he moves his arm to hang up another hoody. They’d gone out to eat at some Mexican restaurant near campus and then she’d left him at his door, a few hot tears escaping from both of their eyes. His room feels deafening with the leftover silence. Someone is listening to Hozier a few doors down, but most everyone else is out enjoying the nice weather or partaking in the freshman welcome events. He had hoped his roommate would arrive in time for them to go together, but there’s still no sign of the other boy.

  
Peter suspects he has at least three hours of sunlight left and decides to take a nap. He’s finished putting away everything but his school supplies, and those are piled high on his desk. He’d hung up his pride flag on the ceiling above his bed with a few spidey tricks and clear tacks with only moment’s fear that his roommate might be homophobic. He resigned to not worry about it. Now, laying on his Spider-Man sheets that’d been an ironic gift from Mister Stark and headphones playing white noise, it serves as a comfort that reminds him of his bedroom back in New York.

—

“Shit!”

  
“Language.”

  
“Sorry Mama, it just slipped out.”

  
“Quiet now, or you’re going to wake up that cute boy.”

  
“Mama!”

  
“Shush.”

  
The first thing Peter notices when he’s startled awake is the strong southern accents. The second is that he’s been woken by someone slamming their foot into the base of his bed. He tries to do his best to stay silent and look asleep. His roommate seems to be moving about the room, two others accompanying him— if their heartbeats are anything to tell by. He isn’t sure how long they’d been in the room but he doubts it’s been very long. Peter is known for being a deep sleeper, sure, but not so much that three people moving around him wouldn’t alert his senses. It’s silent a few more minutes while the three open boxes before Peter decided to get up and make himself known.

  
Slowly, as to not startle anyone, he stretches and pulls the headphones out of his ears. A moment later he opens his eyes and is met with three pairs staring back at him.  
“Uh.” Not quite the introduction Peter was going for, but he hadn't been expecting to be the center of attention, either. They all stare at each other for a painfully long second before the guy he assumes to be Harley flushes and clears his throat.

  
“My name’s Harley. I’m your roommate. Obviously. We’re late ‘cause we got stuck ‘n some traffic. Um. Harley Keener.” Harley sticks his hand out towards Peter, thinks of the sticky milkshake he’d been holding not thirty minutes prior, and wipes it on his jeans before returning it to the air near the other.

  
“Peter. Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you. Are you a cowboy?” _What the fuck Parker?_ Peter feels his face twist in irritation with himself. He cannot believe he just asked this very pretty boy if he was a cowboy. To be fair, Harley does look like a cowboy. Or, what Peter would expect a cowboy to look like. He’s got those boots he only ever sees in western movies, and a flannel jacket that smells like hay and hours in a car.

  
“I dunno, I don’t think so. More of a ranch hand, I s’pose. Whatta bout you? You look like you’ve never left the city.” He doesn’t sound offended, more amused. There’s a grin pulling at his features that makes his blue eyes round up.

  
“I guess you could say that.” Peter answers with a shrug. Peter Parker hasn’t left the city (unless you count that disastrous school trip to Europe) but Spiderman has.

  
There’s an awkward moment of silence before the woman near the door clears her throat. She looks like she’s spent her days working, and has a kind smile that reminds Peter of Aunt May.  
“Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Harley’s mother. We’re just here to help get him situated and we’ll be out of your hair in no time. Ain’t that right Abbie?”

  
“Right, Mama.” The teenaged girl behind his roommate can't be more than fifteen but she looks amused by her brother's antics. Peter stares at the group a few more minutes before nodding and pulling himself to a full stand.

  
“How can I help?”

—

“He’s a cute one, ain’t he?”

  
“Mama, c’mon.”

  
“Don’t c’mon me Harley Keener, you got eyes don’t you?” Jolene Keener is not one to be trifled with, so Harley wisely decides to keep his mouth shut.

Abbie is already in the front seat of the car, tapping away on her Switch Lite and pretending she isn’t laughing at her brother's expense. Jolene sighs and pulls her boy close, kissing his forehead and taking a deep breath. He knows she’s scared about leaving him a fourteen hours drive away from home, yet she also argued with him on Tony’s side that this was the best school he could be at. Damn Tony wouldn’t let Harley just go to some community college in New York and live at the tower with him. Told him he needed a good education first. Promised that these would be some of the best year’s he would experience.

“You call me if you have any problems, alright?”

  
“Yes, Mama.” Harley burrows his head into his moms familiar green sweater and tries to hide his wet eyes. “I’m gonna miss you. You too, Abbie.”

  
“Dork.”

  
“Abbie!”

  
“He knows I love him.”

Harley pulls away from the hug with a chuckle, reaching through the car window to ruin his sister's hair. He wasn’t lying, he really is going to miss going out to the fields with her, chasing chickens and having diving contests at the old lake across town.  
“Love you too, Abs. Now get in the car Mama. If you stay any longer I might climb in with you.” Despite his words, he gives her one more hug before stepping away from the old rusty car she’d followed him in and wipes at his eyes. He’s never been outside of Tennessee, and now he’s being left alone in a new state with no one he knows.

The walk back to his dorm feels empty. On one hand, he’s excited to be out of the small town he’s hated since childhood. He’s excited to be able to learn from a worthy education, and to meet new people. On the other, he’s already homesick. Cambridge is loud, people and cars and the sound of the highway not too far off. He misses the sound of crickets, cicadas, the quiet clucking of the hens out back and the neighbors ancient chocolate lab. Tony had promised it would be worth it, though. Tony always keeps his promises.


	2. The Words Hung Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comfort, fights, and a lil bit of gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i edit this? no absolutely not. should i have? probably
> 
> THERE ARE SOME POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING MOMENTS  
> in the beginning it is clear peter is suffering from PTSD and has an anxiety attack. This is based on my own experiences with ptsd, so remember it is different for everyone!

_Everything around him is falling apart. The Avengers are on their knees. Everyone is silent. Peter can’t breathe. His lungs struggle for air as he sobs. A hand lands on his shoulder. War Machine. Rhodey. Tony’s best friend. The dirt on his face gives way as tears pave a clear path. He doesn’t say anything, but Peter can hear his breath catching in his throat. Tony’s eyes are closed. The air smells like burnt flesh. Pepper smiles at her husband. Peter turns to throw up. This is wrong. It’s all wrong. He stares down at his hands. His suit is torn all over, covered in ash and burns. It’s his fault, isn’t it? It’s his fault Tony died. Pepper will blame him. Everyone will blame him. He did this. He could have fought harder. He could have been the one to put on the glove. He has enhanced healing. He would have survived it. This is his fault. Someone is calling his name, but it sounds far away. Like he’s underwater._

“Peter!”

_He chokes on his breath, wiping at his eyes as he turns, searching for whoever is calling out. He hopes they kill him. Trades his life for Tony’s._

“Peter, wake up!”

Harley is staring down at him, face pale in the dark lighting. He looks panicked, his chest moving quickly. He’s saying something but Peter can barely hear him. He’s having an anxiety attack. He gets them a lot now, after everything. 

Harley is making a gesture with his hand, and takes a deep breath. He counts down from eight with his fingers. Peter follows his lead. Tries to, anyway. Sometimes he hiccups. His spider senses are screaming that something is wrong. They always do after a nightmare. 

“You’re okay, Peter. You’re safe.”

His roommate is awfully calm. Like he’s done this before. Peter realizes he’s gripping Harley’s hoody and releases it with a mumbled apology. Harley doesn’t move away, though. He just sits on the floor next to Peter’s bed and keeps breathing in through his nose and out his mouth. 

“Can you tell me something about you, Peter? Anything at all.”

“My-” he gasps, “my middle name is Benjamin.” He can smell Harley’s shampoo. He uses Axe, Peter thinks. Or it could be his body wash. He smells nice, though. Safe. 

“Benjamin. That’s really cute. My middle name is Mason. Harley Mason Keener. Mama wanted to name me Mason, but I guess my pops really liked motorcycles.” Harley lets out a soft, though somewhat bitter sounding chuckle. Peter focuses on the southern boy’s heartbeat. It’s steady. It feels like the comfort of his favorite song. 

“How’d you know how to help me?” He feels better now. He can breathe on his own. His fingers curl around his soft blanket, the texture something that helps to soothe his senses. He should have expected his nightmares to get worse in an unfamiliar place. 

“I-Well.” Harley thinks to himself for a moment. “My...uncle gets anxiety attacks. I used to be really bad at helping. Would make it worse, if I’m bein’ honest. So I read up on it. Learned how to help ground people.”

“That’s…really sweet of you actually.” 

“Nah. I gotta stay in his good graces.” He snorts, then looks more serious. “Are you okay? You were screaming in your sleep. Nothing I could make out, but it didn’t sound great.”

“I’m alright. I think.”

“One sec.” His roommate stands up. For a moment Peter is confused, until he hears the Keurig Pepper had insisted he take with him power on with a beep. Harley is shuffling around, cursing when he hits his toes on one of their desks. 

“Hot cocoa or green tea?”

“Cocoa.” 

Harley clicks on the LED lights he installed around their full length mirror so he can see what he’s doing. Peter had learned a little about him the day before when they’d gone to get dinner, talking about hometowns and old friends. The insignificant things that don’t really matter when you’re going to be living with someone. He’d thought to warn his roommate of his nightmares but foolishly believed it wouldn’t come up so soon. Perhaps he should have asked if Harley was a light sleeper. 

“Here you go.” Said roommate is suddenly in front of him again, holding out a steaming mug. He’s smiling, as if Peter might break. 

“Thanks.” The mug is hot on his hands. It helps to ground him. Give him something other than their breathing and Harley’s heartbreak to focus on. He motions to the foot of his bed in a silent request, to which Peter nods his approval. They sit across from each other, the cool white of the dimmed LEDs washing over them. Harley takes a sip of his own cup —tea, from the smell of it— and clears his throat. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Peter shrugs. “I always think to myself- if I don’t think about it, it can’t hurt me.”

“Yeah, I get ya. It doesn’t work like that, unfortunately.” 

“I’m starting to see that.” He drinks his cocoa to give himself a moment to think. “The...blip. I was erased. For some reason it took longer for me. I watched everyone fade away, and died in my mentors arms.” Peter closes his eyes at the memory. He can remember the way Mister Stark had stared down at him in terror while Peter prayed his body would hold together. “And then suddenly I was back. Except I was in a war zone. Everything around me was chaos. My mentor almost died in front of me. Pulled an Uno Reverse I guess. I don’t know, sometimes I think to myself what would have happened if there wasn’t a doctor nearby. I feel like it would have been my fault.” 

Harley is watching him with understanding eyes. He seems to be processing everything Peter has told him. The story is vague, of course. He can’t very well say that he’s Spider-Man. 

“I can’t pretend to understand what you went through, but I can try. I was erased too, me and my sister. Ma wasn’t though.” His heart slows for a moment. Peter misses the steady beat from a few moments ago. This is more sad, more like a sonnet rather than a song. “When we came back, we were standing in the living room. It was weird. When we had gone, we’d been playing a board game on the floor. But here we were, in the same position, no board game in sight. It was darker. One thing about Mama is that she always cooks. Home always smells like fresh food. In that moment though, it smelled...empty, I s’pose. Abbie and I went searching for her. Her room, our rooms, different. The garden, garage, even the diner she worked at. Couldn’t find her. We waited _hours_ before she came home.” 

Harley pauses to wipe a few tears from his cheeks. Peter wants to hug him, reach out to him in some way. He remembers how May had looked at him that day in the hospital. How she’d held him and sobbed. It had broken his heart. He isn’t sure if Harley is much of a touchy person, though, so he settles his foot on the blonds shin instead. Harley gives him an appreciative look that makes Peter think he’s done good. 

“When she came home she thought someone had broken in. She comes barging in, shotgun in hand, and then stares at us for a few minutes. We’re staring at her, too. She looked, well, she looked _old_. Like she’d been through so much. Then she wouldn’t let go of us. Just held us both and cried. We watched the news together. Saw the Avengers had brought everyone back. Learned we’d been gone five years. We slept together in the living room for four nights before she felt comfortable letting us outta her sights. Even then, she would come and check on us through the night when she thought we were sleepin’.”

They’re quiet for a while after that. The only sounds are their own. For the first time all night Peter glances at the clock next to his bed. It’s four a.m. Classes don’t start for another three days, so he doesn’t have to worry about sleeping in, but he still feels guilty about waking up his roommate at such a late hour. In the light of the LEDs, their room looks like one from a videogame. The cowboy hat Harley’s mom had hung on the closet door casts a shadow across the wall that kind of looks like a hotdog. The stack of books on his desk like the towers in New York. 

Thirty minutes and two empty mugs later, both boys are only moments from sleep. Peter puts their mugs in the sink at the entrance of their room, rinsing them so pathetically Aunt May would have killed him had it been at home. Harley shifts to his own bed, letting Peter turn off the lights. They don’t talk through the exchange, but the air has changed from panic to understanding. They understand each other. Once they’re both settled into their beds, blankets drawn, Peter whispers, “Thank you,” and falls asleep before he can hear a reply. 

—

“God, Peter, turn that shit off.” Peter's alarm has woken Harley from a particularly nice dream about llamas, and he wants to return to it hassle free. Why Peter has an alarm for seven a.m after only falling asleep a few hours ago, one can only begin to wonder. After a few more seconds Harley rolls over to throw something at his roommate and pauses. Peter looks adorable, snuggled into a plush Spiderman blanket and only the tips of his wavy brown hair peaking out. Harley grumbles to himself as he pulls from the warm embrace of his own bed to turn off the blaring phone, briefly considering turning off the sound all together before realizing it’s not his place to do so. He hopes to himself that Peter simply forgot to turn off his alarm before they went back to bed last night (this morning?) and crawls back into bed. 

—

It’s past noon by the time they get up. Harley wakes first, making himself coffee with the nice machine his roommate had set up on top of their shared counter. Peter had told him the night before that it was a communal machine and Harley was welcome to it any time, so long as he promised not to drink all of his hot cocoa. He’s sitting at his desk browsing Facebook and sipping at the remnants when Peter emerges from his blanket cocoon, bed head in every direction. 

“Wa time’s it?”

“Bout noon thirty. You got somewhere to be?”

“The shower, hopefully.” Harley assumes Peter wasn't entirely awake the first time he spoke, because he sounds much clearer now. 

“I showered probably an hour ago so there should be plenty of hot water.”

“Thanks.” Peter stretches for a minute, cracking in ways that leaves the other wincing in sympathy. After that he grabs a towel and change of clothes, dragging his feet to their bathroom. 

Harley is thankful for their room layout. While they do share a (considerably large) room, they also have a bathroom. He’d been terrified it would be one of those situations where it was like twenty guys and four showers, though had been pleasantly surprised while moving in. The bathroom has a shower/bath and toilet, while the sink and mirror are near the entrance of the room. Their beds are in opposing corners, Peter's desk between them with Harley’s on the opposite wall next to the counter that wraps from the side of his desk to the edge of the hall. It’s a little ugly, but it’s functional. 

The sound of the shower draws Harley from his mental deep dive. The same video of a puppy has been playing on repeat for at least two minutes. He switches from Facebook to Twitter, checking to see if the official Avengers Twitter has posted any updates. Occasionally it’s just a video of Black Widow eating toast or Hawkeye tripping over something. Other times it’s just a quick ‘hope everyone is doing well today’ that Harley knows is likely Mrs. Stark-Potts doing. Just a few hours ago a clip was uploaded that features Spider-Man crawling on the ceiling over Thor’s head, stealing bits of his food from around him while the god tries to swat him away. Harley chuckles at it, hits like, and keeps scrolling. Aside from the obvious Iron Man, Spider-Man is his favorite. There’s something about the new hero that he adores. If he’s being honest, he has a bit of a crush on the friendly Avenger. Though they’ve never met he feels like he knows the guy well enough from the amount that Tony talks about him. 

It’s at this moment that Harley remembers he hasn’t called Tony yet this week for their check in and glances towards the bathroom door before hitting the phone icon. It takes several rings before the other end is connected. 

_“Whats up Kiddo?”_

“Not a kid.” 

_“You are. How’s school going?”_ There's a shuffling noise on the other end, and then Tony snaps at one of his bots. Dum-E from the sound of it. 

“Classes don’t start for another few days. I met my roommate yesterday though. He’s pretty cool.” Harley spares a glance at the calendar hung over his desk. He’s already written out his class schedule and the due dates on his syllabi so far. 

_“Yeah?”_

“Yeah. He asked me if I was a cowboy when we met. Oh! and he has a pride flag hanging over his bed so I don’t have to worry about being hate-crimed.” Tony laughs on the other end in response. 

_“That’s a relief. I told you kid, the city is a whole lot more accepting. You don’t have to be on your guard anymore.”_

“It’s so weird. I think there’s more people on campus than there ever were in Rose Hill.” That’s the truth. There were so many cars and people around last night that Harley was starting to get intimidated. His graduating class size was probably less than the amount of neighbors he currently has. 

_“Yeah, there are. By about four times. Make any friends yet?”_

“Just Peter.”

“ _Peter_?”

“Roommate.” The line goes silent for a few minutes before Tony replies, humming to himself. 

_“That’s interesting. What’s his last name?”_

“No, Tony. No. You can’t do a whole background search on him.” 

_“If you don’t tell me I’ll just hack into the school systems.”_

Harley sighs as he answers, “Peter Parker.” It feels wrong, like he’s invalidating his roommates privacy somehow. 

_“Huh. Is he cute?”_

“I’m hanging up now. 

_“That’s rude.”_

Harley doesn’t answer, just ends the call and sets his phone down next to his laptop. His heart still does a nervous race when he talks about his sexuality. The night he’d come out to his mama and Abbie he had thrown up with nerves twice and then cried for about thirty minutes after. Though they’d both been accepting, he had been terrified. Tony had been easier to talk to. Everyone knew his past hookups included a few men. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s spent the past nineteen years hiding his identity from the rest of his close-minded small town. Here, in the city of Cambridge, Massachusetts, he has a fresh start. He can be himself. Stop hiding. It’s refreshing as much as it is daunting. 

Peter is out of the bathroom less than ten minutes later, towel resting on his wet hair. He walks out wearing only a pair of blue and red joggers with a Spider-Man logo on the thigh. From the bed sheets, blanket, and clothes, Harley has to presume Spider-Man is Peter’s favorite hero. It isn’t the sweatpants that catch his attention though, or what makes his throat tighten. Peter is incredibly well built. His torso is defined and littered with small scars and white lines that he aches to know the story of. His roommate is so attractive it nearly takes his breath away. His back is just as mesmerizing. 

Harley realizes he’s staring and quickly averts his eyes to his dark laptop screen, clearing his throat as he does so. He doesn’t look back until he knows Peter has pulled a t-shirt on. He is not going to make things weird. Peter is his roommate and that is all. Though he’s not entirely convinced with himself, Harley stops his internal berating to glance back at the brown haired boy who is pulling on his shoes. 

“Where ya goin’?” 

-

Peter is eating his second plate of chicken alfredo and wondering if maybe he should act full so Harley stops looking at him with that expression of mixed horror and amazement. Then he remembers how hungry he is and keeps chewing. He can’t help that he eats so much, really. He and Steve used to have contests to see who could eat the most takeout before Mister Stark put an end to it. Between the two moaning about how full they were and the hundreds of dollars worth of food eaten, he’d gotten sick of the aftermath. This train of thought reminds Peter that he needs to go to the student store on campus and pick up some snacks and breakfast foods for their room, preferably today. 

“So.” Peter starts after swallowing his current fork full of pasta, “what are you studying?” Harley looks up from his sandwich and lifts a finger to signify he needs to swallow first. Once he’s done and tries to wash down the too quickly swallowed bread with water he answers. 

“Mechanical engineering. How about you?”

“I’m double majoring. Biochemical engineering and journalism. What got you into mechanical engineering?” Harley is staring at Peter, causing the flush that grows past his chest and into his cheeks. He knows journalism isn’t the coolest, but he loves photography and he’d like to write his own articles about the Avengers and his life as Spider-Man one day. 

“Double major? That’s so impressive. Especially with biochem. I’m good with my hands and brain, I guess. I’ll be working for Stark Industries when I graduate.” He sounds so confident that Peter doesn’t doubt him for a moment. 

“Oh no way! I interned there for a while in high school. It’s such a fun place to work. The tech is so advanced and you can do just about everything. This one time I made a robot that calculates what your perfect shower temperature would be based on your body.” While he can’t tell his roommate the truth behind his ‘internship’, he isn’t lying about the robot. It’d been a big hit with the research staff. 

“You’ve interned there? You must be really smart.” The blond sounds impressed. Peter takes a few minutes to shove more alfredo in his mouth before he replies. 

“I got lucky. Mister Stark saw what I could do and...thought I could be helpful for his circumstances.” 

“Mister Stark? You mean Tony Stark?”

“The very one.” 

“Huh. Have you met him?

What a loaded question. Has Peter met him? Yes, so much more than that. Spider-Man lives with him, after all. Peter spends his afternoons in the R&D labs running paperwork and machines back and forth between the basement labs owned by Mister Stark and Mister Banner and the public labs, so he supposes it isn’t a secret he knows him. Not to mention his entire high school class knowing about his internship. 

“Yeah, you could say that. I was his personal intern for two years before moving here.” 

Harley stares at him. The chip that was halfway to his mouth frozen in the air. It almost sounds like his heart stutters. His expression is dry. 

“Tony Stark doesn’t do personal interns.” The kind tone from last night is gone. In fact, his roommate sounds cold. Like he’s talking to a stranger he doesn’t particularly like. 

“Like I said. I got lucky and Mister Stark thought I would be useful.” Peter squints at the other. Has he said something wrong? Harley seems awfully offended by his existence as an intern. More so than he feels is reasonable. In fact, he won’t even look at him now, jaw set and eyes on the ceiling. 

“You don’t strike me as someone who lies for attention so I’ll assume you were actually some lower level intern, but I know for a _fact_ that Tony doesn’t do interns or people who could get in his way in the labs.” 

“Oh, and you know Tony so well do you?” 

“Yeah, actually. I talk to him every week. He’s like family to me.” 

“Bullshit. He hasn’t mentioned you once. I’d know if he had some...contact in middle of nowhere Tennessee!” 

Peter and Harley are glaring at each other now, lunches forgotten. Both are leaning against the table with their arms crossed. People are starting to stare now. 

“He hasn’t mentioned me to you because you don’t work for him. Are you seriously going to continue with this lie?” 

“Yeah? Call him then.”

“Funny, I actually just talked to him this morning. When I told him your name, he didn’t seem to know anything about you.” 

Peter is fuming. Now he knows Harley is lying. Mister Stark is a huge part of his life. Not once has he mentioned a kid in Tennessee. Not once has he mentioned another protégé. Harley had been so kind and caring not twelve hours earlier, and now he’s lying to Peter’s face while boldly exclaiming _him_ the liar. He can hear the way his roommates heart rate has sped up. Maybe anger, maybe fear. Possibly both. Maybe even embarrassment that he’s been called out on his lie. His own face feels hot with emotion.

“Seriously? This is pathetic. I literally have my Stark Industries ID in the dorm room. You’ll eat your words, Keener.”

“Like I’d believe some flimsy plastic over the actual words that come out of his mouth. I’m the pathetic one Parker? You’re making up knowing a celebrity to sound cool.” Harley is standing now. His hands are gripping the skin of his bicep in a way that would be distracting were he not the object of Peter’s irritation. 

“Whatever. Find your own way back to the dorm.” Ignoring the stares, he slams the rest of his lunch in the trash can and stalks out of the dining hall, trying to tune out the whispers his ears insist on picking up. His breathing is erratic as he struggles to get his anger out of control. He wishes more than anything he was in New York right now, where he could slip into his suit and race through the skyline. The Spider-Man suit is available via a ring on his finger and nanotech, but it’d be too easy to figure out that the superhero is a student at MIT if he shows up a day after freshman move in. 

Peter takes a deep breath and briefly considers calling Aunt May. He doesn’t want to bother her with stupid drama on his first day of dorms, and he’s a little afraid she’ll make fun of him for not being able to handle being an adult more than twenty four hours without her. Of all the emotions he’s feeling, disappointment is strongest. Harley had been so promising. They had shown a lot of potential for a friendship. Now he’s living a case of ‘how shitty of a roommate can the university give you before you give up and drop out?’ What would Aunt May tell him to do? Try to let it go, probably. Harley had ridiculed him just like his high school bullies, though! For a brief moment Peter wishes he didn’t have to keep his identity a secret. He wishes he could see the look of shock on his asshole roommates face as the suit morphs over his skin, leaving a superhero standing in their dorm room. 

It takes an hour to feel calm enough to return to his room. When he gets there, the blond is nowhere to be seen. It’s kind of a relief, if Peter is being honest with himself. He wasn’t ready to face the other boy yet. His bed creaks as he drops down onto it, peeling off his sweaty t-shirt as he does so. The Spider-Man joggers that had been yet another gift from Mister Stark were just as sweaty on the inside, though he didn’t have the motivation to get up and change into shorts. Finding the headphones discarded to his left, he shoves them on and closes his eyes. If he pretends to sleep, Harley won’t bother him when he gets back. Hopefully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this weeks chapter! comments and criticism are always appreciated :)
> 
> find me on twitter @ ironinterns  
> and tumblr @ parknernstuff
> 
> I'm also looking for a potential beta reader so if you might be interested, PLEASE reach out to me on either of my social medias!
> 
> Thank you all for reading, see you next week <3


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